C Richard Miles Poems

When I look inside the stockroom,
I begin to pause, take stock,
As the key to all my questions
Is still turning in the lock,
...

Do do-gooders do any good?
I’m sure that they would, if they could
Avoid the persuasion,
On every occasion,
...

Really big firework in the sky
Over our heads until it
Cracks open into a
Kaleidoscope of
...

I’ve paddled through the packaging
And looked at all the labels.
With military strategy,
I’ve plugged in all the cables;
...

It was Hogmanay, that distant winter
As, along the pier, we went to wander,
Sea so millpond still, with no wind blowing
And no sign of wicked weather brewing.
...

Pale, frail. lemon, flaxen powderpuffs in the sawdust,
Cheep-cheeping chicks pierce the air with shrill peeps
Whilst, worn-out with the struggle, one of their sisters
Shivers with tiredness, then gives up hope and sleeps
...

Tattered shreds, now fluttering faded
Desiccated seedheads rattle out,
Like the last peppercorn in the mill,
Dust-dry echoes of memorial.
...

Like the last guardsman on duty, stood to attention,
Protecting the stark remoteness of Rhossili Bay,
The lone house sits, serene on the green-baize carpet
Of lush marram, surveying the neigh-less white mares
...